


Call it even

by prototyping



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Boys Being Boys, Family, Friendship, Gen, Mikleo CAN swim in this au btw, bros sassing each other, genfic, goofy family shenanigans, idk why i wrote this tbh, just a sidenote
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 17:24:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14061771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prototyping/pseuds/prototyping
Summary: Sorey’s resilience and attention to detail are impressive. His choices and gung-ho attitude, not so much. [Mikleo, Sorey. Modern AU.]





	Call it even

It wasn’t the first time Sorey had brought up this subject. Likewise, it wasn’t the first time that Mikleo fixed him with a skeptical gaze and offered nothing but silence in response. The staredown lasted for about ten seconds before the latter relented with a huff, but he made no indication of budging from where he was stretched out on his bed and only returned his attention to the open book propped on his chest.

“Drop it, Sorey. Gramps is out of town and you know he’s not going to just give you permission over the phone for something like that.”

“I know,” Sorey replied brightly. “Pretty sure I’d get a heck of a lecture about it, too.” That was, wisely, probably why he’d gone this long without bringing it up around him.

“Then why are we talking about your weird fascination with piercings, again?”

“It’s not weird,” Sorey countered. “And I brought it up because I wanna get it done.”

“Duh.”

“Today.”

That earned a brief glance. “You’re thirteen,” Mikleo reminded him. “You can’t get your ears pierced without an adult’s consent.”

“I know,” he repeated, undeterred. That finally prompted Mikleo to look up again in full, his stare equal parts scrutinizing and wary.

“...Please tell me you don’t plan to get it done in the back of someone’s van.”

Sorey gave a dismissive laugh. “Nah, ‘course not! I’m just gonna do it myself.”

Some of the life probably left Mikleo’s gaze right then. “You’re what.”

“It’s easy!” Sorey fished his phone out of his back pocket to wag it at Mikleo, as if that justified everything. “There’re tons of videos. I’m positive I can pull it off. I had to buy some earrings, obviously, but we already have everything else we’d need around the house--”

“Wait, _we?_ ”

“--so I just need a second pair of hands! And you’re not squeamish, so--”

“Hold on--”

“--why I want you to handle the needle while I--

_“Sorey.”_

“Oh, c’mon, it’ll be no big deal!” He dropped heavily onto the mattress beside Mikleo’s elbow, grinning hopefully down at him. “You know I’ve been wanting to do this for forever.”

Mikleo set his book down and sighed. “And what do you think Gramps’ll do once he finds out?”

“...Congratulate me for saving money by doing it at home?” When Mikleo rolled his eyes, Sorey only laughed. “He’ll get over it. I’m not gonna get anything flashy, anyway.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m not!” Sorey protested, sounding as earnest as he ever did. “And hey, it’s better than a tattoo, right?”

“Don’t even go there, Sorey.”

“C’mon!” Sorey smacked Mikleo’s knee as he stood up, turning back with his hands on his hips. “Ten minutes, tops. Then I’ll leave you alone.”

Mikleo held that eager gaze with the most deadpan look he could manage, but to no avail. When Sorey still didn’t back down, he sighed again, loudly this time. He could already tell Sorey would go through with this, with or without his help. “I guess someone needs to make sure you don’t give yourself tetanus.”

“Great! Thanks--”

“Outside,” Mikleo commanded as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. “If this goes bad, I’m not getting busted for helping you bleed all over the carpet.”

Sorey shrugged. “Whatever you say, Mom.” He turned away -- probably intentionally -- before he could catch the sharp look Mikleo shot him.

Ten minutes later both boys were seated on the grass in the backyard. A towel had been laid out beside them along with the supplies Sorey had gathered. He sat cross-legged, now wearing only his jean shorts, with a safety pin in one hand and a lit match in the other, thoroughly rotating the needle through the flame. Mikleo watched him curiously, partly astounded and yet not at all surprised to see him acting so casual about the matter. Sorey had always been the more rough-and-tumble one of the siblings, shrugging off cuts and bruises and just grinning through anything worse. He could have been called tough, but Mikleo suspected it also had something to do with his tendency to live in the moment and act on impulse. Sorey was an intelligent kid, but at the same time he could be too excitable for his own good.

“Okay!” He put out the match and began flicking the safety pin to help cool it off. “You know the plan, right?”

Mikleo glanced down at the set of rather rudimentary tools. “And you’re sure you don’t want to numb it first?” he wondered.

“Nah, ice would just make the skin harder to get through. I don’t think it’ll hurt that much, anyway. It’s just cartilage.”

“You’re a biologist now?” Mikleo cocked an eyebrow, but he was smirking.

“I’ve done some reading,” Sorey replied with the same skeptical look. “Here, hold this.” Mikleo took the pin and watched as Sorey opened the brown hydrogen peroxide bottle, soaked a cotton ball, and wiped down his left ear. Mikleo had to hand that much to him: the guy was always well-read and meticulous with any task he set out to do. He was better off doing this than most kids would be. He’d probably be fine doing it on his own, even. Even so--

“I can’t believe you’re actually doing this…”

Sorey just grinned at him as he popped the cap off a marker in one hand and held up his phone in the other, turning the camera to front-facing to use it as a mirror. “It’s not a big deal. Once it heals I can take ‘em out whenever I want, anyway.” He made a small black dot near the top of his ear, studied it for a couple seconds, determined it was straight, and then picked up the knife and apple he’d brought.

“Wait, you’re putting it _there?_ ”

Sorey cocked an eyebrow right back at him. “Uh, yeah?”

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Mikleo groaned wearily in his throat. “...Five bucks says Gramps calls you a hoodlum punk.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of ‘idiot rebel teenager,’ ” Sorey replied glibly. He began to cut the apple into large pieces. “Make it ten bucks.”

“You’re on.” Propping his cheek on his fist, Mikleo watched him work with restrained interest. “Guess I should look on the bright side. At least you’re not doing anything on your face.”

“You sure are being a prude about this,” Sorey teased. “Haven’t you ever wanted to take a chance and get some kind of change?” He popped one of the apple chunks into his mouth and tossed the next one to Mikleo, who snatched it out of the air with a frown.

“No,” he answered flatly. “Anything cosmetic should be reversible. Or at least not involve punching a hole in yourself.”

Sorey snickered as he chewed. “You really are an old man sometimes.”

“An old man with the right number of holes, at least.” The second it left his mouth Mikleo doubled back on it and cringed, but Sorey didn’t so much as look up. He was probably the only boy his age who would miss such an opportunity for a crude joke.

Instead he held up the other piece of apple he’d sheared off. “Okay! Let’s go over it one more time: just line it up with the mark I made and push through, and make sure the pin goes into the apple on the other side. Wait about half a minute before you take it out and put in the earring. We’ll see how that goes before we do the second one.”

Well aware that he was in too deep to back out now, Mikleo scooted closer until he sat perpendicular to his brother -- only to be reminded that the difference in their heights wouldn’t serve well here, so he got on his knees instead. Luckily -- or perhaps wisely -- Sorey didn’t make any jabs about it this time.

“Just a straight shot, right?”

“Yep! Just keep going. Don’t worry about hurting me.”

“If you say so.” Mikleo took the apple slice and held it against the back of Sorey’s ear with two fingers. In his left hand he held up the pin with his thumb against the spring. “Just try and hold still,” he warned.

“Mm.”

Despite his teasing, disinterest, and sarcasm up to now, Mikleo was entirely focused and serious as he lined up the needle with the dot on Sorey’s skin. Sorey was trusting him to stab a sharp piece of metal into his body and clearly had zero reservations about it; Mikleo didn’t treat that kind of faith in himself lightly. There wasn’t much he could do to make it less painful (although Sorey wasn’t exactly a wimp to begin with), but he would make sure he didn’t drag it out.

“All right -- ready?”

“Go for it.”

Mikleo took a couple seconds to inhale and run through the process one more time in his head -- then, with the same lack of hesitation that Sorey was showing in his trust, he drove the pin into the indicated spot. It took more force than he would have guessed; even pushing as hard as he dared, it felt like the needle was slow to break through to the other side. In the corner of his eye he saw Sorey wince and felt him tighten up, but he didn’t jump or pull away or even make a sound other than a sharp breath through his nose.

Finally, there was a small release in pressure as the needle tip broke through the last of his skin and slid much more easily into the apple. Mikleo quietly let out the breath he’d been holding. _Step one, down. Step two--_ He began to count silently to thirty, only to be interrupted by a loud _crunch._ He blinked, inhaled deeply, and held it.

“Oh, my God. Sorey. How can you _eat_ at a time like this?”

“What?” was the blithe reply through a mouthful of apple. “Not like I’m doing anything else right now.”

Biting back an exasperated noise, Mikleo only resumed his counting as he rotated the pin in place, pausing here and there to catch any thin dribbles of blood with a tissue. Once that was done and, hopefully, the hole would hold, he quickly withdrew the pin, took the silver stud that Sorey held up, and pushed it into his ear, fortunately with minimal resistance. After fastening it into place and wiping again at some fresh blood, Mikleo dropped back onto his butt as he examined his handiwork.

He crossed his arms as Sorey also took a look with his phone again. “Not bad for one shot and a first try, yeah?”

“Heh, see? You were worried over nothing.”

“I wasn’t _worried_ , I was criticizing your life choices. I still am,” Mikleo reminded him.

“Yeah, yeah.” Sorey wasted no time in running through the same clean-and-prep process with his other ear, but this time he went to make the puncture himself. “I’ve got it,” he said confidently when Mikleo objected. “I think I can get it through faster, since I know what to expect now.”

Mikleo didn’t hide his skepticism, but he didn’t argue, either. “Just be careful once it pops through,” he advised. “You might miss the--”

“ _Ow!_ Ow -- ow, ow.” Despite wincing, Sorey laughed. “Ow.”

“Sorey!”

“It’s fine, it’s fine! I just -- went too far, a little.”

_“You--”_ Mikleo leaned around him, smacking his hand aside to get a good look. “How did you go _that_ far?” he demanded. He’d figured the worst Sorey could do was poke his finger, not stab the pin directly into the side of his head. Luckily the needle was thin, but he’d either jabbed himself with a lot of force or done so at a messy angle, since blood was already trickling down from his hairline.

Climbing to his feet, Mikleo heaved a sigh that was at least half growl and snatched up some fresh tissues. He tilted Sorey’s head sideways, none too gently, and steadied him against his stomach to lean over him and hold the wad behind his ear. “Shut up and stay still.”

“It’s not that big, it won’t bleed much.”

“Ice,” Mikleo requested, holding out a hand. A moment later he dropped the tissues to press the bag flush against Sorey’s head -- and, unnecessarily, against his cheek and neck as well. Sorey yelped and tried to jerk away, but Mikleo’s free hand kept a tight grip on his brother’s hair and held him in place.

_“That’scold--!”_

“Deal with it.”

He heard Sorey scoff. “Jeez, you’re even colder than th _AAH!_ ” He tried to wrestle free as the freezing bag was slapped against his bare back, but Mikleo merely shifted to catch his chest against his knee and trap him even more effectively in place. Despite his build, Mikleo’s strength was nothing to scoff at -- and despite Sorey’s size, Mikleo knew how to manipulate even his weight from years of rough-housing and goofing around. 

“The more you move around, the longer this is going to take.”

“ _This_ hurts a lot more than stabbing myself did!”

Mikleo relented and put the ice against his head again, ignoring the grumbling under Sorey’s breath that was very much audible. “Here--” Sorey held up the matchbox. “Sterilize the needle tip again before you pull it out.”

“I was gonna say that your thick skull proved useful for once, but putting an open flame that close to your head makes me think otherwise.”

“I’m not chancing this thing getting infected. But if you’re really that much of a klutz,” Sorey snipped playfully, “then worst-case scenario, the hair will grow back.”

“If you’re implying _I’m_ the clumsy one, you really must have hit your brain -- you know, when _you_ stabbed _yourself_ in the head just now,” Mikleo told him with the same tone of sarcastic cheer. Behind his fed-up annoyance, he was glad and relieved to see Sorey still thinking things through. Honestly, a poke in the head was the least of his worries.

Even so, Mikleo kept Sorey locked firmly between his elbow and chest as he passed the flame over the pin’s tip. Once it had cooled, he withdrew the pin and replaced it with the stud, same as before. He was intentionally rough as he shoved Sorey away, still frowning down at him as he crossed his arms. “You’re a lot of trouble, you know that?”

“Yeah, but you put up with me.”

“Hard not to when you’re family.”

“Eh, I’m sure you could figure something out if you really wanted to.” Sorey returned the playful shove as he stood, and then dusted the grass from his butt as he added, “Thanks, though. Couldn’t have done it without you.”

“That’s what I’m worried about. I’ll be in just as much trouble as you.” Mikleo side-stepped to look at each of Sorey’s ears, both of which were now bright red. “Just keep an eye on them, okay? Don’t mess with them, and make sure you follow whatever instructions you dug up on Google.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it.” Sorey grinned. “Sure you don’t want one, too, while we’re here?”

_“Positive.”_ Mikleo punched his shoulder lightly with a smirk. “One of us has to look presentable.”

“You mean people actually notice you way down there?”

_“Hey--”_

Sorey dodged the next swing, and then his grin went from obnoxious to insufferable as he suddenly rushed forward. Expecting to be pushed again or even tackled, Mikleo was surprised when Sorey ducked down, caught his shoulders and knees from behind, and quite literally swept him off his feet. For a split-second Mikleo thought that insult in itself was the point, until he was abruptly whirled around and toted off toward the--

“Don’t you _dare!”_ He struggled and tried to twist free, but Sorey’s grip wouldn’t budge. The younger teen only grinned at him.

“You know, Mikleo, you’re pretty tense today. Why don’t you--”

“Sorey!”

_“--cool off?”_ As easily as though he were tossing some trash in the dumpster, Sorey hurled his snarling brother straight into their inground pool. On a hot day the water would have felt cool; at a breezy sixty degrees Fahrenheit, this spring day was only narrowly above chilly. The water was freezing.

Mikleo’s voice was about three scales higher than normal when he broke the surface, cussing and spluttering and immediately scrabbling for the side of the pool. Sorey, the idiot, was nearly doubled over with laughter. He did offer a hand as Mikleo dragged himself out of the water, but it went ignored. Any other time, Mikleo would have taken the opportunity to yank Sorey down into the pool as well, but he was conscious of those fresh piercings and resisted the urge.

Instead he just flopped onto his back along the warm pavement, glaring silently when Sorey dropped down beside him. “Feel better?” Sorey chirped.

With an irritated grunt Mikleo sat up to start pulling off his sopping shirt. “You _do_ know I’ll get you back for this.”

Crossing his arms behind his head, Sorey stared nonchalantly skyward. “Mm, yeah. Good luck with that.”

Mikleo’s flat glance missed its target. He gathered up his shirt and started to wring it out, but then paused mid-motion with a thoughtful tilt of his head.

A second later he slung it down on Sorey’s face as hard as he could, the resulting _SLAP_ almost as satisfying as his startled screech and flail-dance to try and get it off.

“You know what?” Mikleo mused. “I _do_ feel better.”


End file.
